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“If war is coming,” someone said, a young Ongahri male with beautiful black hair that touched the middle of his back, “then we will need Trajan’s armies.”
“Since I am captain of that army,” Fadon bit out, “I can tell you all point-blank that my men belong to the queen, no one else.”
“Which is it, Captain?” Lucius said smugly. “The Ongahri’s business is hers or not? House Trajan gets to pick when they represent the whole of our people or only a percent?”
“What is this meeting about?” Fadon sidestepped.
“Fine. I’ll indulge you even though you were not invited. The tribal leaders here have decided to join me in bringing war to the Basilica’s doors once and for all. Since your queen hasn’t made a move, I’ve decided to stake my flag. These fine leaders here have decided to carry their banner with mine.”
Fadon scoffed. “Is that so? Since when have you ever been interested in politics, Lucius? Or working with others. I’d like to hear your reasoning.”
“Well, pull up a seat then.” Lucius had Pateus stand aside, and Fadon gladly took the proffered seat. Phobius glided into the room and stood near Lucius’ side, leaning against the wall. Demos, who hadn’t seen me yet, seemed to be taking it all in, as if memorizing every face.
“We were just in the mid—” Lucius started to say but his eyes had fallen on me. Something I couldn’t put a name to flashed in his eyes before it was gone. He pulled out a timepiece from the pocket of his vest, then grinned. “Actually, we’ll adjourn for a break. Let’s resume in, say, ten minutes?” He stood up and came over to me. Some of the Ongahri stood as well, a few leaving, causing Ander and I to separate and move out of the way. Most of the others had chosen to stay, however.
“What are you doing here, little dove?” Lucius seemed happy to see me, but his body language told me he was in House Dega mode. He took off my cloak, which was wet from the snow, and gently placed it on a sideboard next to us. “Where’s Ander?”
In my peripheral, I saw Fadon speaking to someone I didn’t recognize. He hadn’t seen me step into the room, but now, he turned his attention to us. His mouth was in the middle of forming words and he stopped, his brow a study in confusion.
Gods, I wasn’t ready for this!
“Is this the lucky bride?” an older Ongahri asked, smiling kindly at us.
Lucius grabbed my hand and lifted it to the rest of the room. “It is, indeed, Chantis. I’d like to introduce my wife, Sierra Dega,” Lucius said with pride and that infamous drawl he was known for when cooking something up. I didn’t appreciate it, honestly, but I had no time to consider it when Fadon stood up slowly.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” He took in our joined hands, and then glanced at my throat, where the evidence of Lucius’ words showed truth. My osnat.
It was like my dream, my nightmare, coming to life.
Fadon’s face lost all color before turning a bright red, his expression running the gamut between shock, hurt, and rage.
“Lucius.” I tried to pull my hand away, irritation at him rising. “Let’s not do this right now,” I whispered with heat. But he ignored me, choosing his desire to gloat over the usual territorial instinct whenever we were in a room with other males.
“I said she is my wife, Capitan. We were married on the Longest Night.”
Fadon slowly turned his gaze away from my osnat and on to Lucius. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
Lucius chuckled. “Truer than you know.”
“Fadon, perhaps we should talk about this outside,” Ander said, appearing at his side and touching his shoulder.
The captain shrugged him off, though. “She is promised to me, Lucius.” His gaze went around the room until he spotted Demos. “Servant, show him the document.”
The whole room seemed to freeze, so many people were listening to what was transpiring. Two Houses, one woman. This needed to stop.
“Fadon…” I begged. “Please don’t do this here.” Lucius let me go, but before I could reach Demos and Fadon, Phobius stood in front of me. Something in his eyes arrested me, and for a moment I was no longer in this room but in the banquet hall in Goth Mor Helle.
“Do you, Gregoras Trajan take this woman…” Phobius’ face flashed from the present to the dream time, shorn hair to long, tight long-sleeved tunic to black robes. His bright-blue eyes and wicked smile were the only things that hadn’t changed.
I see you. Do you see me?
A flash of King Gregoras turning his head, his face alight with curiosity as he noticed my presence. A handsome, regal man. There in his coloring, in the lines of his face… traces of Fadon, Ander, Mari, and…
My stomach dropped and the world seemed to shimmer as I gasped.
Reality slammed into focus with the force of a boulder crashing to the ground. Phobius smiled, as if he knew what I’d finally acknowledged.
In slow motion, I turned around, my eyes to Lucius, who was observing me closely, a hint of fear in his mercury-colored eyes.
